


whiskers on kittens

by restitched (beingothrwrldly)



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Christmas Eve, Kittens, M/M, Soft Hockey Boys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-09-26 06:50:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17137025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beingothrwrldly/pseuds/restitched
Summary: On Christmas Eve, Lawson goes to an animal shelter with Christian.(Or, the one where Crouse gets Keller a kitten.)





	whiskers on kittens

**Author's Note:**

> I have SO many other things I should be doing today, but instead I wrote this stupid thing, inspired by that Driven In video where Clayton Keller says wants to get a cat and my obsession with a pairing that doesn't exist. Nobody looked this over, so everything about it is a mistake. MERRY CHRISTMAS!!! Sorry about this. Please go away RIGHT now if you're mentioned in or know anyone in this story. 
> 
> Title is from My Favorite Things from The Sound of Music.

On Christmas Eve, Lawson goes to an animal shelter with Christian. 

“I'm doing this for you, you know,” Christian says as he peers into a cage against the wall. 

“I know,” Lawson says, grinning. “You have no idea how much I owe you.”

“Oh, I _definitely_ have some idea,” Christian laughs. 

They end up getting two kittens, one pure black and one calico, because Christian thinks it's better for them to have company while they'll both be gone on the road. Lawson has to literally bite his tongue. 

Christian doesn't want to leave them in the car at the pet store so they bring them inside, and they each wind up carrying a kitten around the store because they won't stay in the cart. 

“Kells would love this,” Lawson says while they're looking at cat toys. He's kinda sad that this will be a surprise. 

Back at Christian's house, Lawson sits with the kittens in the living room while Christian sets up the litter box. _hey u got an eta on when ur done?_ he texts to Clayton. 

_ummmm maybe like 25 mins?_ Clayton texts back right away. _showering now and headed home. ❤️_

 _cool cool_ , Lawson writes back. One of the kittens is curled up in his lap. “Hey,” he calls out to Christian, “should we name them or let him do it?”

“They're his cats,” Christian says, walking back into the room with a spool of ribbon they'd gotten at the store. “Kinda shitty to name them if they're his cats.”

Lawson holds the kittens while Christian ties bows around their necks, and it takes _forever_ ; when Clayton walks in the door the kittens have untied both bows and are chasing each other’s ribbons around the room. “Hey, sorry I'm--” Clayton says, and he sees the kittens and his eyes go wide. 

“Merry Christmas!” Christian says, beaming. “Look what we did!”

“What did you _do_?” Clayton sets his bag down and the calico kitten hops over and bats at the zipper. 

“You wouldn't shut up about a cat, and you have a really fucking persuasive boyfriend, so we got you a cat,” Christian says. 

Lawson grins up at him from his spot on the floor. “ _Two_ cats,” he says. “Baby ones, which I think means more points for us, I think?” He looks up at Christian. “Right?”

“Uh, _yeah_ it does,” Christian says. “Best roommate and best boyfriend of the year, probably.”

“Oh, for sure,” Clayton says, distracted, and he drops down to kneel on the floor across from Lawson and the calico kitten climbs up into his lap. “Oh my god,” Clayton exhales, laughing a little. “They're so small, how are they going to kill scorpions?”

“They better figure it the fuck out,” Christian says, but when Lawson looks up at him, he's smiling. “You'll have to teach them.”

Clayton scrunches up his face and laughs. “I just wanted _cats_ , Fish, I can't actually teach them to kill scorpions! They're just babies!” He scoops one of them up and holds it against his cheek, and when he pouts up at Christian, Lawson wants to _die_.

Christian presses his lips together and shakes his head, and he's trying to look mad but he's also trying not to smile. “You better clean that _fucking_ litter box,” he says evenly. “And if I die from scorpion bites, I'm haunting you and those cats forever.” He looks at Lawson. “And you, too, for good measure.”

“Deal,” Clayton says, grinning, as the kitten squirms in his hands. “That works for me.”

“Hey,” Lawson says, frowning. “I didn't agree to this.”

Clayton looks at him and smiles. “It's fine, don't worry about it,” he says. “He's not gonna die from a scorpion bite.”

Later, after Christian’s left for the airport, Lawson is sitting next to Clayton on the floor next to the Christmas tree. The kittens are wrestling underneath it, and Lawson takes Clayton’s hand and looks over at him. “You've gotta name them, you know,” he says. 

“This is the best present I've ever gotten,” Clayton says softly, and he looks over at Lawson. “Thank you.”

“Fish deserves most of the thanks,” Lawson says. “I mean, he's the one who had to give the okay.”

“Maybe I'll name one Christian,” Clayton says. “The other one can be Fischer.”

Lawson laughs. “Oh my god, he'd hate that.”

Clayton laughs too. “I know.”

Lawson looks over at the kittens, who've stopped wrestling to sit under the tree and paw at the lights on the lower branches. It's quiet, for a minute, and then Clayton sighs and rests his head on Lawson’s shoulder and everything feels _perfect_.

“Hey,” Clayton says, and he squeezes Lawson’s hand. “I love you.”

“Love you too, bud,” Lawson says, grinning.

Clayton turns his face into Lawson’s neck and laughs, and Lawson closes his eyes. “Don't _call_ me that, I hate it when you do that. I'm being serious, and you're making it a joke.”

“Oh, shut up, you love it when I do that,” Lawson says, laughing. “It's not a joke, though, I'm serious.”

“Our love isn't a joke, Lawson,” Clayton says, very seriously, and he leans back and looks up at Lawson. “Come on,” he says, and the corners of his mouth are turned up like he's just about to smile, “take this seriously. Say it like you mean it. That's all I want for Christmas.”

“I say it like I mean it all the time!” Lawson says. “And I thought kittens were all you wanted for Christmas. I got you _kittens_ , Kells.”

“The kittens are a really nice bonus,” Clayton says, shrugging. 

Lawson exhales and shakes his head, putting an arm around Clayton. “You're so fucking high maintenance,” he mutters as Clayton settles against his side. Lawson watches the tree and Clayton doesn't say anything for a long time. “I love you,” Lawson says when it feels like enough time’s gone by. “I hope you know that I mean it.”

Clayton sighs happily and turns his head, and he kisses the side of Lawson’s neck. “I do know,” he says softly. “I love you, too.”

“You said it already,” Lawson says, and he closes his eyes. 

“I know,” Clayton says. “Can't say it enough, though.”

“I take it back,” Lawson says. “You're not high maintenance, you're a good boyfriend.”

Clayton lifts his head and Lawson looks over at him. “I know I am,” Clayton says.

“Modest, too,” Lawson says, deadpan, and Clayton laughs and then he grabs Lawson’s chin and pulls him in and kisses him, and it's too rough and too messy and too perfect. “Hmm,” Lawson hums, grinning against Clayton’s mouth. “Pretty good kisser, though.”

Clayton grins, too. “Makes up for the modesty, huh?”

“I’d say so, yeah.” Lawson opens his eyes and Clayton is watching him, his hand still on Lawson’s chin. 

“Merry Christmas, babe,” Lawson says softly. “Is it cool if I call you babe?”

Clayton’s face breaks into a smile that makes Lawson feel like he's the only person in the world. “You can for _sure_ call me babe,” Clayton says. 

“Cool, alright,” Lawson says. “I like a good compromise.”

“Merry Christmas, Crouser,” Clayton says softly, and Lawson would object to the nickname to keep things fair, but Clayton says it like it _means_ something so Lawson doesn't say anything. Clayton's face is lit up from the Christmas lights on the tree and his eyes are sparkling when he blinks, and Lawson feels suddenly and overwhelmingly lucky. “I love you, too.”


End file.
